“An iPhone.”
“No. I mean your carrier. A T and T, Verizon, whatever.”
“Sprint.”
Camilla exchanged a puzzled look with Jordan and stood up. “Hey, everybody.”
Faces peered up at her.
“Can anybody get a signal on their phone right now?” she asked.
Her sense of unease grew as person after person confirmed a lack of signal across the entire spectrum of mobile carriers.
“Let’s all save our batteries,” she said. “Turn ‘em off.”
• • •
Camilla lay on her side. The darkness crushed in on her from all sides, and she imagined she smelled smoke. She shivered and hugged herself. Her legs ached. She had been drowsing on and off, half asleep and half awake, for the past couple of hours. At least the cold breeze served as a constant reminder that she was out in the open, providing some relief from the claustrophobic press of the dark.
A little distance away, she could see Juan and Mason, squatting side by side. They were talking quietly about something. What? She strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn’t. Juan’s finger moved on the dock between their heels, tracing something out for Mason. A map? She got the distinct impression that he knew exactly where they were.
Someone dropped to the boards right next to her. It was Travis, the mechanic. Snake Eyes.
He leaned back on his elbows beside her, staring out into the darkness in front of them. “Can’t really say this is what I expected.” He nodded to himself. “But I guess that’s all right. As long as we get our shot at that money… Camilla, right?”
She nodded. This close to her, here in the dark, he made her uncomfortable.
He pointed out over the water, at an angle from the dock. Camilla figured the shore lay in that direction. “Look right over there,” he said. “Give it a minute or two. Tell me if you see something.”
She peered in that direction, seeing nothing at first. But after her eyes adjusted, she thought she detected a faint flash, barely visible. It disappeared, but then she caught sight of it again. Then another one, some distance from the first. And then a third, and a fourth. They seemed to form a line, probably along the shore.
“What do you think they are?” she asked.
“Can’t rightly say for sure. But I suppose I have some idea.” He paused, fingering the triangle of hair under his lip. “Because what our good buddy Julian said about this thing running twenty-four-seven stuck particularly in my mind.”
He looked back out at the water. “Had a job few years back pumping gas at an all-night truck stop in Bakersfield. Lonely place at night. Some bad types drifting through, time to time. Year before I started there, trucks out in the lot got broke into four times. Owner couldn’t afford a security guard. So what he did, the owner, he put these cameras up around the lot. Got a break on the insurance that way. Thing was, there weren’t any lights out in the lot. Place was dark as pitch at night. So the cameras, they were infrared.”
Camilla shifted position, putting a couple more inches between them.
Travis pointed toward the shore. “I sometimes had occasion to go out into the lot at night,” he said. “If I happened to look directly at one of them cameras when I was passing, I’d see it flash just like that. But sorry if I’m bothering you. Just trying to be friendly.” He got up and moved away.
Camilla looked toward the invisible shoreline. The flashes seemed sinister now, a row of eyes hidden in the darkness. The idea of large unknown animals roaming out there had been scary enough, but this was worse, somehow. It seemed purposeful, deliberate. Like something huge watching them. Biding its time. Waiting.
• • •
Lauren’s impatient pacing was getting on Camilla’s nerves. She yawned and pulled herself to her feet. The air was damp, chilling her skin. According to her phone, there were still a couple of hours to go until dawn. Jordan lay fast asleep on the boards next to her, curled on her side with her blond hair pillowed on one arm.
Next to Jordan, Veronica looked up. “Do you really think this will help your little orphan cause?” she asked.
“It’ll be light soon,” Camilla said.
What is your problem, lady?
Lauren was back. “As soon as it’s light,” she said, “I’m gonna go hunt that goddamn thing down. Find out what the hell it was.” She shifted from foot to foot, shaking her arms and fingers like she was loosening them up. “Who’s with me? JT?”
“Hell yeah. Sucker was big. Fast, too. But if it’s still around come morning, it’s gonna be one sorry motherfucker.”
Brent laid a hand on JT’s shoulder. “I didn’t see it, but I don’t think it makes sense to go challenging some wild animal. This may be its home. What do you think it was?”
“Don’t know.” JT shook his head. “Don’t care. Walrus maybe, some shit like that.”
“As far as I know,” Camilla said, “walruses live up in the Arctic. Alaska, Northern Canada. Why would a walrus be down here on the California coast?”
“Because of all that global warming shit.”
Lauren pushed her way between them. “It wasn’t any walrus—I saw one at Marine World up in Vallejo a couple years ago. This thing was kind of similar, but different. A lot bigger and uglier.” Camilla caught a flicker of fear on Lauren’s face. “Like a goddamn dinosaur.”
Saturday: December 22, 2012
D
awn broke slowly. A faint rosy hue spread behind the low, oppressive cover of pewter clouds, and what lay all around them gradually took shape in the dim gray light. Camilla rubbed the chill from her arms and joined Jordan and Veronica where they stood nearby. Seagulls swirled overhead and landed on the seaweed-draped rocks that stretched away to either side of the dock. The air was noisy with their cries.
Lauren and JT were pacing at the edge of a sloping rocky breakwater that blocked the view of what lay inland.
Lauren waved impatiently. “Let’s move out, people.”
“Be careful,” Brent said. “We should all stay close together.” He stood with the others at the edge of the dock, where it met land. The shore was rough here—a maze of small projections and inlets that curved out of sight in the morning mist. In the light, their surroundings no longer seemed scary. But they did look wild and desolate.
Jordan pointed a group of small seals out to Camilla. “Just look how cute they are!” she said. “Like puppies.” The seals stirred lazily on the rocks and slipped into the water with barely a splash.
Veronica sniffed. “Filthy animals.” She stepped off the dock to join the others. But Camilla was surprised to see her smile at Jordan, laying a hand on her arm as she went by. Unbelievable. Jordan had charmed even
her
.
Jordan grinned at Camilla. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up, sister.” She clapped her hands together. “This is so crazy. Let’s get rolling before the gung-ho types steal all the glory.”
Camilla looked down at Jordan’s feet, wobbly in stiletto-heeled pumps.
“Manolo Blahniks,” Jordan said. “I’ve got some flats in my bag, wherever that is.”
“In the meantime,” Camilla said, “those are going to get destroyed.”
“Whatever. I don’t care about that.” Jordan started toward the breakwater, then looked back over her shoulder. “Besides, after I win I’ll be able to buy myself a whole closetful.”
Not if I can stop you.
Camilla swallowed. Teams and collaboration were more her thing than head-to-head competition, but in the end there could be only one winner here. All Jordan’s “OMG, guys” and “sister” stuff aside, it was important to remember that. She followed Jordan along the shore. An avid mountain biker, Camilla was in pretty good shape herself, but Jordan moved with the athletic grace of a dancer. The thought of going toe to toe with Jordan intimidated her more than she wanted to admit. But they would be on the same team, she reminded herself. Jordan liked her, too. It was okay to want to be friends with her.
Tangled coils of rubbery brown seaweed were piled here and there, with great mounds of it along the waterline. Camilla recognized it as kelp. Knots of it floated in the water, supported by air bladders that grew along the hoselike stalks. It looked like the tentacles of some alien thing, more animal than plant. Freaky. She made an involuntary grimace but quickly changed it to a neutral expression, remembering the cameras that were probably watching right now.
At the base of the breakwater, Jordan took a tentative step onto the rocks, then another, before she stopped. In high heels, her footing was precarious. She looked stuck.
“Come on, help her,” Veronica said.
Camilla shook off her misgivings and hurried forward.
Jordan already had an arm around Veronica’s shoulders. She threw her other arm around Camilla’s and gave her a friendly squeeze. Together the three of them joined the others making their way up the rocky slope.
Soon all ten contestants stood in an uneven line at the top of the breakwater. Nobody said anything at first. Camilla’s jaw dropped in amazement as her surprised eyes roamed the strange vista in front of them, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
Everywhere she looked, things were in motion: flopping, flapping, wriggling along the ground, or rising into the air in brief hops to land again nearby. Sleek wet heads rose up to look around, then lowered again. Mouths and beaks opened in threat, warning away other animals that came too close.
Next to Camilla, her pale silver eyes wide, Veronica stared in openmouthed disbelief. She shook her head once, as if to clear it.
“Where in the hell did these people just dump us?”
Verve Coffee Roasters, Santa Cruz, California
“K
aren’s back tomorrow,” Heather said. “She can meet with us then. I talked to her admin.”
“That’s crap,” Jacob said through a mouthful of muffin. “She’s avoiding us.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she said, handing him a napkin. “But now we get to the interesting part. I also got hold of Sara, from Raja’s team.”
“And?” He dropped the muffin onto his plate, spilling crumbs.
Dmitry was back, with three white cups balanced on saucers, which he slid onto the butcher-block table. “They do fancy foam drawing on top, see? Is nice, but coffee tastes same like Starbucks.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Jacob said. “I hate it when you say that. It’s not even close. Anyway, Heather, go on.”
“Raja’s team also had their time on the island canceled with no explanation,” she said. “They were freaked out at first, just like us. But Karen told them not to worry, she’d gotten their grant fully funded through next year—at a higher level. Ours, too. Karen said they could add another researcher to the team.”
“Still sounds like the usual bullshit politics. Raja’s team gets preferential treatment, and we get the shaft again.” Jacob’s voice rose, drawing stares.
“Sh-h!” Heather said. “You’re missing the point. It wasn’t just
our
stay that got canceled this year. It looks like none of the Institute teams are going out now.”
“That’s crazy,” Jacob said. “Parks and Rec can’t just arbitrarily revoke permits. So who bumped us?”
Heather considered. “Maybe it’s the change of underwriter. Sounds like Karen found us all some new sponsor, so maybe this year’s permitting grants weren’t valid anymore.”
“Maybe, maybe, maybe. That’s all we’ve got?” Jacob gestured with his arm, splattering coffee on a nearby couple.
“Sorry!” Heather said, handing them her napkin. Jacob crossed his arms to fume.
Dmitry looked confused. “Okay, Karen says somebody give us money for next year? No progress review first? Is good news, then.” He stirred away the fern-leaf pattern in his latte foam. “But why we don’t go to island?”
“Somebody else is going out instead of us,” Jacob said. “Bet on it.” He sounded calmer. “There’s no way they’d bench both Institute teams and have the station sit empty, not during December. That’s when things really get cranking out there—for the pinniped and avian researchers, too.”
“Look, I’m still not happy we aren’t going,” Heather said. “But, frankly, this new funding thing is a relief. We were looking pretty sketchy for next year; you know that. Now it sounds like it’s a done deal.”
“I still say we’re getting screwed.” Jacob wiped at his mouth. “It’s the usual thing. The Institute doesn’t get enough PR value out of our research, despite its importance. Our babies aren’t cute and fuzzy enough for the mainstream public.”
Dmitry frowned. “You should not think of them as ‘our babies,’ Jacob. Does not show respect. They are not pets. Very dangerous animals—you need to remember this always. If you getting careless with them, something bad will happen.”
C
amilla stood at the top of the breakwater and looked down the slope at the scene in front of her, just taking it in, unable to speak. A boiling brown carpet of seals and sea lions, flecked with the white and gray of seabirds, blanketed the ground sloping away from where the ten humans stood. The downslope ended in bluffs that dropped to a small beach on the far side. White-capped waves churned the half-mile-wide channel that separated the beach from the mainland, where a sandy point faded into rising bluffs.
They were on an island, she realized. It was small—maybe a quarter-mile long and only a few hundred feet at the widest spot. There wasn’t a single tree, not a single other person in sight. Only rocks and more animals than she had ever seen in one place before. In many spots, she couldn’t see the actual ground itself; it lay hidden beneath the teeming seals and sea lions. Colonies of gulls, auklets, cormorants, and other seabirds hopped between the seals, adding their noise to the din. Trains of pelicans crossed the sky overhead.
“Oh my god! Someone actually
lived
here?” Jordan pointed to a pair of oversize two-story houses that commanded the high ground to their right. Both structures were ruins, their empty window frames dark. The silhouettes of dozens of large pelicans jutted like living gargoyles from the rooflines.
Brent pointed to three plainer, newer-looking structures to their left. “Those are in better shape,” he said. “Some sort of warehouse or factory complex, maybe?”